Lyric has been out of the hospital for three days, and this is the first time I’ve left

her penthouse to deal with club bullshit. Knowing that motherfucker Pierce is on the loose is making me work double time. Things have been quiet since I got back from

out west, but sometimes quiet isn’t exactly a good thing. Chrome is finally up on his feet

again and when he calls, we all jump. If a careless fool with a gun can take Chrome down, I’m afraid of what could happen to any of us now.

Weaving in and out of traffic on my bike, I pull into the parking garage of our building and round the floors. Coming to a stop in my usual parking spot, I notice a couple extra bikes. Unfamiliar bikes at that. Am I late? I think to myself wondering if I can sneak in without anyone noticing I wasn’t here to begin with. Not that anyone would give me shit after everything that has happened in the past couple weeks. I told myself over the years I would never let a woman in. Lyric is different. She makes me want to be a better person most days. And drives me absolutely fuckin’ batty on others. No one has been able to break through my walls and it scares the shit out of me that she is so close to taking them all down.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit.” I hear from around the cement column in the parking

garage. Her voice is enough to set my blood on fire. The annoying thick Brooklyn accent

reminds me of just how trashy she is.

“Fuck off, Tiny.” I don’t even look back to see her because I know what to expect.

Long blonde hair with some fucked up color mixed in. She thinks she looks cool, but she’s trashy. She adds the red, or the purple, maybe pink this time, to try and fit in with the cool kids.

“We need to talk, Ryker.” I hear a little sniffle with her words and ignore it. Crying bitches always be trippin’. Ain’t nobody got time for this bullshit. I’m here for one reason, and one reason only. My club. Then I am going back home to Lyric. Did I just say home? Fuck this. All these women inside my head have me so fucked up I don’t know whether I am coming or going. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!

“We ain’t got nothin’ to talk about. I don’t have time for this shit.” I try to walk away. Step-by-step in the direction of the elevators that connect to the building. I hear her following me.

The click of her high heels marking every step she makes. I come to a stop at the elevator door, pressing the button and waiting for the car to make it to the floor I am stuck waiting on with Fatal Attraction following me around. I ignore her, but when I can sense her body behind mine, I turn to confront her once again.

Unsure if my life is coming to an end, or if I am actually having a stroke, my jaw hangs when my eyes come in contact with her. The petite blonde club slut who has followed me around like a lost puppy for years isn’t clad in leather. She isn’t bleach blonde, or even pink. She is dark brown wearing what appears to be some kind of maternity shirt. She looks like your run of the mill New Yorker that you wouldn’t look twice at on the streets. I can only stand there and stare at her while my heart sits firmly in my throat. Is this for real? Why is she here? What is going on? Is this some kind of cruel joke?

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for months,” she says. Her hand

reaches up and sits firmly on the top of her swollen stomach. Why me? Why now? Just when I think I finally have shit in check… this happens.

“Before you freak out, I don’t know who the father is. But, you are one of the possibilities.” She looks ashamed. I’m surprised though; most club sluts would wear something like this like a badge of honor. How many old ladies could she run off with one pregnancy? It’s happened so many times in the past. Families ruined because someone got drunk and fucked the wrong bitch at a party. Now it looks to be my turn!

“Who else?” I ask. I have to keep my questions short, my words few, because I’m on the verge of fuckin’ losing it.

“Judge, Vegas, Ace, and you.” Tiny’s face reddens with embarrassment. What’s the point of being ashamed of what you did now? It’s over and done. The past. I guess not everyone can put shit like that into perspective like I can. Yeah, I drag some shit around from my past, but not all of it. That would be like having a fuckin’ elephant on my shoulder all the time.

“When do you find out?” I ask her. How the fuck do I explain something like this to Lyric? What if it is mine? What does that mean for my life? Shit as I know it is over. I can’t bounce on my kid because his mother was a mistake. That wouldn’t make it any better than my own parents. Both of them were useless pieces of shit. I couldn’t do that to some innocent little kid. But my life ain’t cut out for babies and that happily ever after bullshit. Yeah, Chrome and crew has found some kind of happy medium between violence and parenthood. Between club business and having an actual wife, but I know there isn’t a place for that in my life.

It’s in this instant that I know everything I’ve had going on with Lyric is a lost

cause. I’m not this guy, no matter how much I love her. There will always be someone out there who will treat her a million times better than I could. Just look at this shit- fuckin’ random women coming out of the woodwork with babies because I can’t keep my shit in my pants. It ain’t the first time, and I know it won’t be the last. Lyric deserves better.

“Well, I am due in a couple weeks. Once the baby is born they can do a DNA

test.” Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts. A couple weeks, huh?

“Let me know when you find out.” A few steps and I am inside the elevator on

my way down to Chrome, knowing full well there is no way I can deal with all of this bullshit now. My head isn’t in the game; all these women have me fucked up. Now I know what the fuck Biggie was talkin’ about all these years.

Bitches ain’t shit but hoes n’ tricks. I’ve single-handedly fucked my life right into the ground. And the pussy wasn’t even all that good.

FUCK!

“Nice of you to finally fuckin’ show up,” Chrome greets as soon as the elevator opens. He is standing straight, chaps covering his legs, his leather cut in place. He is almost fully back to himself minus the slight limp he’s been nursing since he was able to get up and walk again.

“Oh, so you’re gonna give me shit too?” I laugh and turn to walk back into the elevator. I can’t take it right now. I can’t add anymore bullshit onto my goddamn plate.

“We got shit to take care of. You aren’t goin’ anywhere. We should re-name your ass Ghost since that’s what the fuck you are lately.” I hate it when Chrome is pissed at me. My mind has been all over the place lately and definitely not where it needs to be. I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. I need time away from all of this shit. I need to leave and get my head on right but I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Woodstock sounds perfect right now. No bullshit, no club, no women, just a couple days with just my fuckin’ self.

FUCK MY LIFE!

“What’s goin’ on?” I finally ask him. I can’t stand here looking like a duh any longer.

“While you’ve been playing nurse, your brother has been starting more shit. Now they are startin’ to target my wife’s girls. Two nights ago three girls got swiped while coming out of the studio down in the Village. One got away and gave us the details she could remember. Now it’s personal, Ryker. They are targeting my wife and her business. This isn’t club bullshit anymore, that line has been crossed. This is your battle, so I expect you to get your ass out of your head and get it together for once.”

The words are a slap to the face. My club has needed me all this time and I’ve been off playing house. Trying to tell myself I could actually live a normal life with Lyric but guys like me... we don’t get normal. We don’t get happily ever after, and watching Chrome go through this with his girl and her family just makes me realize it even more. It’s all bullshit and I know there will never be a world where I can have the club and Lyric at the same time. It’s a nice dream that will only end in a nightmare. I don’t deserve happy. Mike Ness described it perfectly all those years ago in his “Ballad of a Lonely Man”.

* * *

The cool chrome of the gun reminds me that this is the life I had chosen all those years ago. The vibrations of her repeated text messages give me hope that I can walk away from it all; knowing full well that will never happen. The only out I will ever have will be death. And let me tell ya, I can feel it knocking on my door.

My days are numbered... it all comes down to who will take me out first. Will it be one of those fuckin’ Satan’s Rejects? Or will I just end it myself? Drink after drink, text after text... my life falls apart.

Where are you?

Lyric texts, looking for me. I should have been home hours ago. Home to her penthouse, well, her sister’s penthouse. She’s expecting me to be there to protect her, but I’m sure one of the other guys can do it. I can’t be around her now. I can’t fuckin’ do it.

I’m in hell.

Nah, this isn’t hell. This is purgatory. And I’m fuckin’ stuck.

Ryker what happened? I thought you were coming home?

If I do this now, I know I can never get it back with her. I’ve fucked over Lyric too many times now to count and I know there is no moving on. But I have to do it for her. I lie back on my bed and spark up a joint I’ve been saving for a night like this on my nightstand.

I take a couple hits before picking my phone up and replying to Lyric’s text message. I take another hit and keep typing.

I am home.

I’m with my club.

I’m at the only place I’ve ever been able to call home. I regret the text as soon as I send it, but it had to be done. I know she’s not the kind of girl I can string along. She’s not one of the club sluts. This isn’t the kind of life she wants.

Fuck you Ryker.

FUCK YOU! How dare you do this shit to me all over again?

This is bullshit! Don’t come back!

She’s pissed. Better this way anyway. I hate myself but it is better off this way. I take another swig from the handle of Jack sitting between my legs and toss the gun onto my bed. Fuck that bed, too. All I can see is Lyric lying naked right there. She is everywhere. I will never fucking be rid of her! As much as I try to tell myself I am doing this for her, it’s all a bunch of bullshit. My whole life is bullshit. Pity party, table for one right here in my lonely ass club bedroom. Fuck it all to hell.

THUD THUD THUD. The bangs on the other side of the wall catch my attention, followed by the screams of a woman and the obvious band of bikers trying to calm this bitch down. I roll my eyes thinking about the fact that finally someone else has some bullshit to deal with. Motherfuckers deserve it. I could never make sense of how those guys deal with unruly bitches like that.

BOOM! The door to my bedroom swings open, smashing into the wall and bouncing back toward whomever the fuck kicked it open. I grab my gun and stand up. My body sways. Fuck. I drank way too much.

“Put the gun down, you fucking twat.” Seven James stands before me screaming and it’s like all of my worst nightmares have come true. When I pulled my shit with Lyric I completely forgot about her sister. A fucking force to be reckoned with, that one.

“Sit down too, you’re a sad excuse for a drunk. All puffy faced and pathetic. That’s all you drank? Fuckin’ lightweight.” She verbally assaults me.

“Fuck you, Seven,” I slur.

“No, Ryker. As much as you would like that... I like big boys. Not little bitches.” Zing. She got me. Here I am sitting in my room crying over a woman I fucked over and I get caught by this bitch.

“Something you need?” I muster up the balls to ask her. I’m not the type of guy to be scared of a woman, but there is something about Seven that... well, just isn’t woman. She’d put the fear of God in most men. Like, big fuckin’ bikers.

I know there has been a couple run ins with the Renegades and Seven. The stories... well, they aren’t all that pretty. But those aren’t my tales to tell. Needless to say, she scares the shit out of me.

“Too drunk to remember ditching my sister. Again. I mean, this is becoming a fucking pattern now, Ryker. You either want the girl, or you don’t. You are fucking her up. She is innocent, she’s not like us. Stop toying with her.” Seven pushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear, and for once she looks almost human. She cares about Lyric even if she is the “long lost” type of sister.

“I’m trying to let her go. She deserves better. That’s not me, Seven. You know... guys like me don’t deserve girls like her,” I tell her what I’ve been telling myself all along. Hoping to convince her I am not in the wrong.

“Ryker, if anyone knows anything about deserving someone, it’s me. But that doesn’t change the fact that she wants you. I don’t know what you have going on because I frankly don’t give a shit. No disrespect, but I have bigger problems to deal with. You can’t leave her hanging like this. She wants you in all your fucked up glory. You leave her and don’t come back for days on end. Don’t answer her. If you really want it to be over, give her a reason and let her move on once and for all.” I hate that Seven makes any sense. Then hell must have frozen over, and the one woman I’ve always hated got me to actually open up. Ain’t that some shit?

“Seven, she deserves better. I got problems, and to add to ‘em, now one of the club sluts re-appeared magically claiming me as one of her thirty possible baby daddies. Between that and club business, I don’t want Lyric getting dragged into any of this. She deserves so much more than I can give her.” I don’t want to think about the one woman I’ve ever actually loved with someone else, but at the end of the day she would be better off. It’s a tough pill to swallow. I’m all over the fucking place.

“You think Levi would be better off without me and all the bullshit I tote along?” She actually fucking laughs at me.

“Let’s see here. The night club, if that isn’t a giant shit show constantly, I don’t know what is. Then comes all you fuckin’ hellions. The bikers are a package deal with Star. I don’t like dealing with you assholes but you’ve become my family. So I deal. Levi, believe it or not, likes you guys a lot more than I do. Kidnappings, random family members popping out of the woodwork, I mean, the list goes on and on but when you love someone nothing else in the world should matter. Outside factors are exactly that... outside. If you want to be with Lyric, or at least want her to make the decision on whether or not she can deal with your bullshit baggage, let her make that choice. Don’t make it for her. It just ain’t fair.” Seven turns to walk out of the door but it is blocked with a crowd. Apparently wherever Seven James goes she makes everyone her captive audience. Lucky for me, they all happen to be my brothers. Or should I say, I am never going to live this bullshit down. Ever.

“Hey Seven,” I call while trying to get up from the chair I planted my drunk ass in.

“Thanks.”

Whether or not I want to admit it, she is right. I can’t make those kinds of choices for Lyric. I can’t believe it took Seven Fuckin’ James to get inside my head and set me straight. God, I feel like such a fuckin’ vagina. Maybe next I’ll get my period. I gotta make this right somehow.